Last Friday, November 17, the Centre des musiciens du monde in Montreal (CMM) hosted a concert in partnership with the Mundial Montréal festival. This is the second year for this relationship between the CMM and the showcase event, and it has already proved its worth. Firstly, the exceptional quality of the artists invited to perform at Mile End’s Saint-Enfant Jésus church (the venue for most CMM concerts), and secondly, the delightful difference in the type of music offered at these concerts compared to those at Mundial.

At CMM, the artists offer us intercultural encounters (this is the Centre’s basic principle), the result of which is often of a new, more learned and refined intellectual and musical nature than at Mundial. Whereas Mundial favours groups with an energy and scope closer to pop (without conforming to this style), CMM seeks to transcend differences with musical proposals that are often based on advanced research.

For example, in the first half of Friday’s concert, the duo of traditional singers Maling Thunell (from Sweden) and Jessica Paradis (from Quebec) presented the result of a creative residency during which the two artists compared and then brought together songs with similar resonances from the two folkloric terroirs. On stage, the two young ladies accompany each other on harp, harmonium and accordion, all the while singing and exchanging parts of melodies and texts with similar roots. From Sweden to Quebec, the attentive audience was treated to an enjoyable ethnology lesson in Folklore 101. The voices of the two artists are superb, on the order of classical ancient music singing. Above all, they overlap in a complementary way, Thunell’s a beautiful, luminous soprano and Paradis’s closer to a mezzo. Often, the versions of the songs (the Swedish and the Quebecois) embraced each other in a rich, perfectly balanced counterpoint. The encounter entitled Paysages nordiques (Nordic Landscapes) deserves to be presented everywhere in Quebec and in Sweden, of course. Beautiful, touching and enriching. Something to remember.

Maling Thunell solo :

Jessica Paradis : 

The second part of the concert featured the CelloGayageum duo. Cello for cello, of course (played by an Austrian of Korean origin, Sol Daniel Kim), and gayageum for the Korean instrument of the same name, a cousin of the Japanese koto (played by Korea’s Dayoung Yoon). The encounter here is between traditional Korean musical art and Western classical art, in a set of original pieces (the existing repertoire for this type of instrument being non-existent) that offer quite accessible, and above all playful, sonic adventures. The character expressed here is decidedly less learned and sophisticated than that of Paysages nordiques, but the encounter nonetheless succeeds in creating beautiful sparks and pleasing the audience in abundance. 

Mundial Montréal constantly offers us great discoveries in globalized world music, with a view to the festival market and large-scale gatherings. What the Centre des musiciens du monde brings to this dynamic is a more niche market orientation, but one that is so important and essential to our collective intercultural enrichment.

The Atelier lyrique de l’Opéra de Montréal and the Orchestre de l’Agora joined forces on Saturday evening to present Claudio Monteverdi’s mysterious opera The Coronation of Poppea. The limited size of Salle Pierre-Mercure at UQAM’s Centre Pierre-Péladeau did not prevent the performers from delivering a grandiose performance. An effective staging and a high-calibre cast made for an unsettling and memorable evening.

Monteverdi’s opera is said to be full of mystery, since Monteverdi’s original version has disappeared, and the stagings are reconstructions made possible by musicological research. Despite this, the opera is considered a jewel of the Italian repertoire and continues to fascinate audiences even nearly 400 years after its premiere. The libretto recounts the adventures of Poppea, lover of Emperor Nero, who wishes to ascend to the throne. After repudiating his wife Octavia, Nero marries Poppea, making her empress of Rome. Behind this argument based in ancient Rome lie timeless dilemmas: the struggle between love and duty, and the internal contradictions that inhabit us all.

The emotional complexity of the libretto is effectively represented by Aria Umezawa’s staging. The sets, initially uncluttered and open, become increasingly loaded with various objects left on stage by the singers. This makes the opera’s final tableau one of its most visually overloaded, illustrating the decadence and desolation suggested by the work. The costumes, too, are thoughtful and evocative, even allowing for dress changes in a matter of moments, right on stage.

As for the performers, both on stage and in the orchestra pit, they are all of exceptional quality. If one was initially concerned about the acoustics (the Orchestre de l’Agora, conducted by Nicolas Ellis, playing on period instruments for the occasion), one is quickly reassured. Each instrument is clearly audible, and in no way rivals the voices. Everything is perfectly calibrated in this respect.

The vocal quality of the singers is complemented by convincing acting that brings to life a whole range of emotions. We tremble at Nero’s anger (Ilanna Starr), worry at Poppea’s ambition (Emma Fekete), are moved by Seneca’s (Matthew Li) death, and are torn by Ottone’s (Ian Sabourin) dilemmas. All interpret the most difficult and virtuosic passages with ease and agility. All performances are to be commended and warmly applauded.

The Coronation of Poppea saw several forces unite to deliver a most spectacular performance. We can only congratulate them and look forward to another such collaboration.

Announced several months ago, Disques 7ième Ciel’s 20th-anniversary concert was eagerly awaited by fans of hip-hop and rap keb. Founded by Steve Jolin aka Anodajay in 2003, the label has played an important role in the development of the musical genre in Quebec. Its roster includes FouKi, Koriass, Souldia, Manu Militari, Imposs and a host of other local artists. To celebrate, Jolin and his band put on a (very) long showcase-like performance, lasting over four hours, at the Bell Centre on Friday evening.

What better way to kick off the show than with owner Anodajay. Cheered by the crowd on arrival, he got the ball rolling with two of his own songs, including Le Beat à Ti-Bi, his famous song with Raôul Duguay. On stage, the Rouynorand native was alone, accompanied by a DJ and archive footage and video clips scrolling behind him. The rest of the evening unfolded with this minimalist approach and the sporadic appearance of a few musicians and backing singers.

After the opening set by Disques 7ième Ciel’s standard-bearer, veteran rappers Dramatik, Manu Militari and Koriass performed a series of their old songs, much to the delight of the more nostalgic fans in the room.

The show lasted two hours, most of the label’s artists having taken to the stage with two or three solo tracks. Souldia’s stage appearances were the loudest in the Bell Centre; the Prince of Limoilou has been cultivating an incredible connection with Quebec audiences for several years now. In addition to the headliners, Zach Zoya, the LaF collective and the Brown Family stood out from the crowd. Around 10 pm, an intermission is announced…

Twenty minutes later, Anodajay is back on stage and the show is back in full swing. In this second set, most of the artists return, and Koriass and Souldia are given plenty of space. As the evening wore on, the crowd slowly began to lose steam. Luckily, the various artists had reserved their most popular songs for the second half.

Around me, several rap fans quietly left their seats and headed for the exit. To describe the atmosphere, at times it felt like a bar where people were chatting and partying, with music playing in the background. The length and rather random sequencing of the various performances had a lot to do with this. You wanted rap, you got it!

Let’s focus on the positive. Over the course of four hours of rap, fans were treated to several highlights, including an excellent a cappella rap by Koriass, the presence of the great Diane Tell for a rendition of Jamais su with Anodajay, a remixed version of her famous song Souvent longtemps énormément, and an excellent cypher with most of the 7ième Ciel artisans to close this historic evening. The evening would have benefited even more from the creativity of this last segment.

Quebec hip-hop is doing well, very well indeed, and this great celebration is the umpteenth proof of that. Without Steve Jolin and Disques 7ième Ciel, we’d be light years ahead of where we are now as far as rap keb is concerned. It’s hard to say we’d have expected more from this show when we’ve been served up over 240 minutes of music, although everything could have been more concise and punchy.

But then again, it’s quite a challenge to pay tribute to so many years of Keb rap history in a single evening, 7ième Ciel style and the rendering did it justice nonetheless.

Souldia photo credit: @Play.fille Sarah-Maude Lessard

Last night, at the Maison symphonique de Montréal, an encounter took place that was both delightful (for some) and disconcerting (for others): a concept concert entitled Fragments, conducted intensely for two hours, solo, by cellist Alisa Weilerstein (Rafael Payare’s partner). How would you sum up the concept? There are six Suites for solo cello by Johann Sebastian Bach, as you probably already know. To each of these Suites, Weilerstein has added several compositions (also for solo cello) specially commissioned from a wide range of contemporary composers. Each suite becomes a cycle entitled Fragments (from 1 to 6).

Within these Fragments, everything is mixed between movements from the suites (not even played in the usual order, with the famous Prelude from the first suite arriving at the end of Fragment I!) and new compositions. The only consideration is that the sequences follow a dramatic and expressive arc, supported by a rather sober but subtly expressive staging. This is achieved through two fundamental elements: variously placed blocks/panels lit from within (each Fragment has its own particular “placement”), and dynamic general lighting that changes as the Fragment in question unfolds. In this way, each hour-long Fragment becomes a musical theater with a unique dramaturgy. As you will have gathered, Weilerstein did not play all six Fragments of his total project yesterday. The concert would have ended in the middle of the night! Instead, we were treated to the first two in the series.

Note that this concert is part of the Bach 2023 Festival program. The full program is online here.

But then, you’re here to find out if it was any good, aren’t you? Of course, it depends on individual sensibilities, but for my part, I’m very happy with the result, and I’m very keen to get to know the other four cycles in the series.

I’m not going to inundate you with a description of every piece linked to every other piece, and this Bach movement and that. That would be like describing a grocery list. Instead, I’ll try to characterize each of the two Fragments heard, because that’s the whole point: it’s an artistic proposition that puts Bach back into context within contemporary musical cycles with their own unique personalities. At least, that’s what I understood from the exercise.

Fragments I is organic, fluid and “pacifist”. The relationship between the contemporary pieces and those taken from the Suite G major, BWV 1007 (No. 1) is generally benevolent, although there are occasional contrasting flashes. Joan Tower, Reinaldo Moya, Chen Yi, Gil Schwarzmann and Allison Loggins-Hull have created a dialogue of post-minimalism, lyrical modernism and even Latin and Chinese sounds (very diluted, no pop “crossover” here) with the great Johann Sebastian. The scenography and lighting are made up of fairly obvious symbolic characterizations: the cubes/panels are arranged in a balanced manner, in a perfect semicircle and encircling the soloist like the interior of a temple. A stage on the stage. What’s more, they turn white for each Bach movement (a symbol of purity?). For the others, we have warm shades of red, blue and orange. The transitions between pieces are quite natural. We’re on an emotional journey here, offering viewers a surprising yet friendly introduction. The modernity of the new pieces is not astringent, though still demanding in terms of attentive listening.

Fragments II is different. From the outset, Weilerstein is herself in a different persona: dressed more “moderately” and, above all, coiffed in a “glam-rock” style. The music gets off to a flying start: a rhythmic, dynamic frontal attack with a piece by Quebecer Ana Sokolovic that spits its virulence at the audience. The message is out: we’re somewhere else. In fact, the whole of Fragment II is marked by a much more aggressive personality than the first (but not only, as a superb final episode in which Weilerstein sings a gentle lullaby while accompanying himself offers a moment of great poetic tenderness). Fragment II is a cycle of striking contrasts, in which Bach and our contemporaries collide and pit themselves against each other. But there is a dialogue. An argumentative dialogue in which we don’t always agree, but which nonetheless reflects a very current reality: not everything is rosy and harmonious in a world of good intentions. New ideas and perspectives are born of the clash. The staging, once again, clearly characterizes this personality: the cubes/panels are, this time, scattered around the stage, some lying down. One has the impression that the temple evoked in the first Fragment is now in ruins. Bach continues to be in white, but the stage lighting is much cruder than in the first part. Edge-on spotlights often assault the soloist. The pieces in this cycle don’t follow on from one another, but bump into one another. So it’s the worlds of Ana Sokolovic, Caroline Shaw, Gity Razaz, Daniel Kidane and Alan Fletcher that have the wrong role here: that of making Bach seem salvific in a world in perdition.

That said, the new works by these composers are not, in all honesty, that terrible. We’ve heard far worse. True, they are often rhythmically motoric, or dynamically explosive, but the discourses offered are comprehensible. All the pieces “tell” something, dramatically speaking, although it can be anything, and very different depending on who’s listening. My point is that there is no example anywhere of dodecaphonic or cerebral serial atonalism. Nor is there anything that could be called experimental avant-garde. Nor, conversely, is there anything frankly neo-classical/romantic or strictly minimalist. Perhaps this is where Weilerstein could have dug deeper, to give a more realistic portrait of today’s music. I admit that the cohesive work would have been tenfold. But no one says that true creation is simple.

The majority of the audience at the Maison symphonique, although not full, reacted favorably. Some of the audience didn’t return after the first Fragment, and a few left during the second. Still, there was an appreciable number of young people, and I didn’t think they were among the deserters! I’m just saying…

One colleague suggested that there might be no point in the exercise if Bach had to be “hijacked” (in his defence, I think he was referring to Weilerstein’s very full, romantic approach to playing in the Suites excerpts, but his general opinion of the concept wasn’t much more enthusiastic…). I wonder how we can still be at this point in our thinking. I can’t find the reference anymore (who said this at the time?), but Liszt’s arrangements of Beethoven’s symphonies for solo piano generated the same kind of reactions from certain “specialists” in the 19th century. And probably all “revisits” of the great classics throughout the history of creation.

Cellist Alisa Weilerstein’s approach is resolutely contemporary. Not in the sense of a harmonic and now academic avant-gardism that in fact goes back a full century. Rather, and essentially, in the sense of a posture of listening and conception of music that is truly contemporary, worthy of the 21st century and the era of Spotify playlists or those on our phones. Traditional conservatives continue to listen to music from an absolutist perspective, where the first movement comes before the 2nd, and an Allemande from the Suite in D minor, BWV 1008 (no. 2) does not logically follow a stylistically alien piece entitled With One Foot Heavy and the Other Light, Johanna and Anna Lilted Across Long Years (Microfictions vol.2, I). And yet, in the 21st century, the new “listening” is deconstructed in this way, especially among the younger generation. Weilerstein (and she’s not the only one) proposes a different narrative for the concert. A scenario in which the concert is no longer simply the mirror image of a well-honed, structured repertoire, or the parrot of a discursive conception based on a list of works “to be played”, in the right order and with the right complements. In this proposal, and following the example of radio, which in the past has freed itself from the structure of the concert, the Weilerstein-style concert today frees itself from the traditional layout in which it has been confined since the 19th century. The days of the live Overture-Concerto-Symphony program (for the orchestral version) are numbered. The recital, less constrained, is nevertheless challenged by these Fragments.

Is this a good thing? A bad thing? It’s a fact of life. It’s futile to oppose it for ideological reasons rooted in some rigid conception of good taste, or “relevance”. We’ve had quarrels between the “Moderns” and the “Ancients”, between the Brahms gang and the Wagner gang, and between the partisans of Boulez and those of Glass. Nonsense, all these certainties. None of these camps has made the other disappear or become obsolete.

Nor is it relevant whether what Alisa Weilerstein proposes with these Fragments will become a “fashionable” form or not. Or whether it heralds a total deconstruction of classical concert-listening forms. What is certain, however, is that the artist is exploring a highly topical and relevant need to rethink the way classical concerts are performed and listened to. This questioning is very contemporary and necessary, whether we like it or not. It’s gratifying, too, because it shows that classical music continues to raise questions and that a younger generation is ready to experiment with it, not only by writing about it but also by presenting it in its own way and according to its own codes. That tells me it’s alive and well, and I’m very happy about that.

Weilerstein (who played spectacularly with an astonishing diversity of textures and sonorities) may not have found the magic formula (I’m sure there isn’t one anyway!), but she offered an idea and gave us a “show” whose “sequel” I can’t wait to hear.